The Meeting
by Emrys MK
Summary: Harry meets Snape's mother. DH-compliant


**Title**: The Meeting  
**Author**: Sev1970/MK Malfoy  
**Characters**: Harry Potter, Eileen Snape  
**Rating**: G  
**Summary**: Harry meets Snape's mother. DH-compliant  
**Words**: 2129  
**Date Written**: December 11, 2007  
**Warnings**: DH spoilers  
**Disclaimer**: I own none of this…it is all JKR's and those she deems fit.  
**A/N:** This idea has been brewing for a while now, and I couldn't get it out of my mind. Many many thanks go to **lilyseyes**, who beta'd this extra quick.

This was it. There was an old wooden stake sticking out of the ground that verified that this was indeed the place Harry had been looking for. He turned to his right and looked straight ahead.

His first thought when he saw the old house was that no one could possibly live there, only he knew someone did. Once upon a time, it had surely been a magnificent representation of what wealth could purchase, but years of neglect had left the house looking sad and lonely, her paint peeling, and her chimney crumbling.

Harry kicked a small stone to the side as he approached the front door. What had once probably been a scenic path to the grande home was now over grown: weeds and clovers covered all but small sections of what had once been red bricks and stones. Large trees that lined the spacious approach to the home now blocked much of it from view. Harry had to watch his step, careful not to get his feet tangled in the neglected overgrowth.

Why was he here? Oh right… the letter he had received a fortnight ago. Not a second had gone by in the intervening two weeks when Harry hadn't been nervous about this meeting. How was it that a seventy-eight year old woman could fill Harry Potter, the darling of the wizarding world (even at the age of thirty-eight) with such trepidation?

Ginny hadnt wanted him to come, and neither had Ron or Hermione. They had all said Harry ought to leave well enough alone, and that the past was the past and he had done his share and shouldn't have to do anything further. If it hadn't been for Teddy and Albus Severus, it was likely that Harry wouldn't have come. As it was, Al had been doing research for History of Magic, and Teddy had been helping him. Al was home for Christmas, and when he and Teddy had overheard Harry talking to Ginny about possibly going to see someone with a familiar-sounding name, they had burst in, pleading with Harry to go, and they had wanted to go, as well.

Al had said it was his duty to do this. Harry had laughed, asking just why his son thought such a ludicrous thing, to which Al had replied by saying it should be obvious. It was, but no way was Harry taking his son.

So now he was here. Standing at the door and looking around him, Harry took a deep breath and gathered his nerve. He could do this. Lifting his hand, he knocked and wondered what he would say when he saw her.

A minute passed before he heard someone at the door. A few seconds later, Harry was looking into the deep black eyes of Mrs. Snape. She was not anything near what Harry had expected: she didn't look old and frail. As if in answer to his stare, the woman smiled and beckoned him inside.

"You came."

Harry swallowed. "Yes, Ma'am." He tried to smile, and when the mother of Severus Snape held out her hand, Harry shook it. "I thought it unwise to decline such an invitation."

"Let us go into the lounge and sit by the fire."

Harry followed the woman who looked to be about five feet seven, and marveled at how young she looked. True, she looked rather sad, and Harry knew she had to be lonely, but she didn't look that much older than Mrs. Weasley, although quite a few years separated the two women.

When they entered a room with a large fireplace, Harry took a seat on a tatty old couch and watched as his host sat in a chair across from him. Above her, a large portrait of an older couple kept watch over the room, the woman winking at him, then shaking the shoulder of her husband to get his attention, pointing to Harry. The man had black hair that was graying, and a hooked-nose. Other than that one feature, the man looked warm and welcoming as he smiled at Harry. The woman, whose hair was shoulder-length and black, had a small nose, but her other features were not as welcoming and pleasing as her husband's. She had a look about her that made Harry think she had probably not been the most congenial of women.

"My parents: Severus and Mathilda Prince. My father built this house for my mother. I know it doesn't look like it now, but when I was a little girl, this was the grandest house for miles around."

And Harry knew she spoke the truth; he could almost hear the music from the many parties that must have been had in the house, and he could imagine the young Miss Prince in her frock running down the stairs hoping to catch a glimpse of the party-goers. It brought a smile to his face. When he heard the woman speaking, he came back to the present.

"…Severus. I thought it was time someone knew the truth."

Harry had no idea what she had said, but he nodded, then swallowed, not sure if he was excited or nervous about what he was about to hear. It seemed a bit odd; they hadn't even exchanged names, but Harry imagined that the woman knew who he was. After all, she had invited him into her home. When the woman began to speak, Harry looked at her and smiled slightly.

"My parents pleaded with me not to marry Severus's father, going so far as offering to send me to France to apprentice with Francois Laureate, an esteemed Potions expert. I was close to accepting this when Tobias gave me an ultimatum. The following day, the two of us were married."

It was easy to see the sadness in the older woman's face, and Harry wondered what the ultimatum had been.

"I gave birth to Severus ten months later. My husband, who had not been overly loving to me during the first few months of our marriage, treated our son like a prince…."

Harry knew Mrs. Snape had chosen her words carefully.

"He loved that little boy, and even as we didn't have much, he tried to give Severus what he needed. It was like that until Severus was three. It was such a lovely three years, dear. We were a family, and we were happy. But, as all things do, this came to an end."

Harry nodded sadly as the lilting voice wavered ever so slightly as he watched Mrs. Snape look around the large room. Why was she telling this to him? Harry didn't want her to relive such sad times, but he knew it must be important to her, so he would listen for as long as she needed to speak.

"My husband tolerated my being a witch because, when we were together, I acted as a Muggle. When Severus began showing signs of being a wizard, Tobias almost immediately closed himself off to both Severus and me. For me it was sad, but expected. For Severus, it was devastating – he lost his father that day, and in a way, I lost my son. He couldn't understand how his father, who had loved him the day before, could suddenly loathe him. It was a hard lesson for a three-year-old to have to learn."

Now the woman's voice was visibly shaking, but she continued. It was most uncomfortable sitting listening to this, and Harry wished for her to stop. He knew Snape had led a sad life; he knew he had to be a good person at the core; he knew Snape had to have been sad, and he knew Snape had only been looking for acceptance when he became a Death Eater. What new bit of information could Snape's mother tell Harry that would matter? How did anything matter now? Severus Snape was dead… had been for twenty years.

"My husband died when Severus was eighteen. The last time I saw my son was on his seventeenth birthday. Over the intervening years, we corresponded, although not often. He refused financial help, but he would occasionally ask for advice. Severus was such a curious child, and that never left him. When he was nineteen he went to Africa for the winter, and I made him a black cloak. He liked it so much that each year after, I sent him a new one. You know, Harry, I did see my son once more. You didn't know it was me, no one did, but I was there at his burial. I saw my son in his black cloak, the final one I had sent him. He looked so pale, and so alone. My son died alone. No one should have to die alone."

Harry swallowed a few times and shook his head, willing his eyes to remain looking at Mrs. Snape. Maybe he wasn't here to learn anything specific about Snape. Perhaps he was here so that a grieving mother could finally learn something new about her son.

"He wasn't alone, Mrs. Snape. I was there when the snake bit him, and before he died, we spoke. He had some memories to share with me." Harry went on to explain, and he was relieved when she finally smiled a few seconds after he had finished speaking. He hoped he had done the right thing by telling her.

"Thank you, Harry. When I invited you here a fortnight ago, I wished to meet you for no other reason than to see for myself the young man who my son had once told me about. He rarely spoke about his work, but in one of his letters to me, he spoke of you, telling me that there was this boy, Harry Potter, who he wished I could meet. He told me that you were so much like how he had wished to be. He said that had his father not abandoned him, he thought he would have been very much like the boy he wrote about. He never mentioned you again. Over the years, when hearing about your adventures, I wondered what it was that my son had seen in you, knowing it had to have been something important.

"A few nights ago, I had a dream: Severus wanted me to meet you. I couldn't understand why. Yes, I did want to meet you, but why did _my son_ want me to meet you now? I did think of the letter when he mentioned you, but it was as if he were pleading with me to see you. My son rarely asked for anything unless it was important to him, so I knew there had to be a reason. Well, now I know. My son knew you could help me. Harry, dear, you have helped a mother, who has been overcome with grief for twenty years, let go today. My heart has been broken, thinking that Severus was alone when he died. When his father withdrew his love from Severus that day fifty-five years ago, the look on Severus's face was one I will never forget. He had lost his best friend, and from that day on, he was alone. That he had died the way he lived – I just couldn't bear thinking that."

Harry was unsure of what he should say, but he was certain that this was not at all what he'd thought would happen today. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny were at the Burrow waiting for him to return, and Harry was unsure what he was going to tell them, or what he was going to tell his son, who was waiting to hear about the man who he had been named after.

"Mrs. Snape, I didn't know your son, not really, but I wish I had. It seems as though we both had a lot more in common than I thought. My mum and dad died when I was one and I grew up with people who didn't love me, so I know what your son was missing because it is what I missed. There are lots of ways to make children feel wanted and needed, but there are no real substitutes for parents." Harry was unsure of what he was saying, and hoped he wasn't making a complete fool of himself.

"Thank you, Harry. Now, how about a cup of tea?"

"I'd like that, thank you."

An hour later, Harry left the old house. When he was at the road, he turned around. Mrs. Snape stood in the doorway waving. Harry waved back and mouthed happy Christmas, then turned and Disapparated.

The End


End file.
